


Drown in it

by Suchthingbutnever



Series: Ziam fuckathon [6]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Knotting, M/M, Omega Verse, Omega Zayn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 17:04:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suchthingbutnever/pseuds/Suchthingbutnever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to 'Burn baby, burn' - can probably be read seperately. Liam ponders his life decisions after he gets Zayn through heat for the second time. Fluff ensues. Omega!Verse / Ziam / Porn with Ploz</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drown in it

It took Liam a full day to finally say it.

 

He was supporting himself on both of his arms, not feeling the burn in his muscles, eyes fixed on Zayn’s face. They had chosen probably the most unfortunate position to knot – with Zayn flat on his back, legs pushed high, and Liam pressing in. He had, once again, neglected to undress properly, and the jeans were now heavy and sweat soaked around his thighs. Outside, the warm spring sun was setting in hues of orange and electric pink, dipping the room in an unearthly glow.

It felt like forever since he ditched his books, his library seat and his pretty study partner that morning. He had heard his phone buzz several times throughout the day, the angry clinking sound of messages received – but he simply couldn’t, couldn’t look away from Zayn.

 

Liam remembered the first time he ever saw him with such accuracy that it still burned the inside of his eyelids. It had been one of those generic fresher’s events, where they welcomed you to the university, told you about its great history and the many, many academic opportunities they could offer you. While a guidance counsellor went up the stage to introduce the Omega help-lines they ran in cooperation with the government, Liam had turned around to his left, for whatever reason, and caught the straight line of a nose, then a pair of knitted eyebrows, then the smudge of dark lashes…

It was almost like discovering painting, one that was so big that you couldn’t look at it all at once without breathing in and stepping back.

 

Later on, while they were all stepping back outside the hall and Liam had struck up a conversation with Niall, blonde, Irish and incredibly loud, he walked past the dark, painted boy and the breath was punched out of his lungs while he inhaled. That scent, the very scent he was breathing in right now, it clouded all his senses and blocked every other thought from his mind.

He vaguely remembered his grandfather, shortly before he passed away, telling him about the day he met his Grammy. That he knew from the very beginning that there would never be another woman for him, that he would wake up every single day thinking about that scent, the shape of her elbow and the fast glimpse he caught of her green eyes.

 

In summary, that was what happened to Liam.

But while his grandfather mustered up the courage to ask his grandmother out on the spot, Liam just stopped and let his eyes follow that head of tousled black hair, heart beating out an unsteady rhythm.

He saw Zayn plenty of times after that. In the library, bent over a book. Under a tree around campus, eyes half-lid against high-noon. After he joined the football team, he started hearing Louis talk about him, and that was how he learned his name.

 

So it was not until now that Liam chalked up the courage, with adrenaline still pumping through his veins, his knot a sweet, burning pressure inside Zayn, sensitive and so, so hard. “Do you want to – uh, do you want to go get dinner after, like, all this?” he sucked in a deep breath, hoping it would calm his pulse. “Or breakfast, you know, whenever. I don’t mind.”

 

Zayn blinked, eyes still dilated and dark, hands clutched around Liam’s shoulders like vices. That was exactly how he had looked when he turned up behind Liam and Danielle, positively reeking of his heat, mouth half-open, shirt sliding off his shoulder. And Liam – Liam couldn’t help himself, he was too far gone for that.

“What? Yeah, sure. Yeah.” Zayn blinked again, eyebrows knit together. “What’s wrong?” He tilted his hips upwards a little bit, making an involuntary, small mewling sound. Liam swallowed, closing his eyes for a second. He was always so close, so close to just holding Zayn down and letting his instincts take over. It wasn’t like he had never thought about it – since the very day he saw him, breathed in his scent, Liam had been dreaming about all the things he could do, wanted to do.

 

“Hey, Liam.” Zayn reached up to cradle his face, his hands burning hot against Liam’s sweat-drenched forehead. “We can go get dinner. Or breakfast.” His lips were feather-soft, “or lunch.”

“Yeah, I, uh.” Liam opened and closed his mouth. He probably looked like a fish, or something stupid like that. “Just, I think you don’t remember, yeah? In the library, you told me that you…”

Zayn stilled, expression going carefully blank, and Liam’s stomach dropped. He started lifting himself up again, praying for his knot to go down quicker. Way to ruin a great moment – he seemed to have a talent for that when it came to Zayn. He managed a mumbled “sorry” and then dropped his eyes to the arch of Zayn’s collarbone, where droplets of sweat mingled with a few streaks of come.

“Don’t say sorry all the time.” Zayn reached out again, tilting Liam’s chin upwards until their eyes met. “I… what I said in the library, yeah?”

“No, it’s alright, seriously.” Liam dropped his gaze again. Zayn’s eyes were a golden hazel in the setting sun, his lashes long and soft and clumped with the few tears that had escaped when Liam pushed his knot in half an hour ago. “You, uh, we don’t have to.”

 

Because people said things in heat.

He had heard various other reports, from alphas off his course, even Niall, saying that it was sweet while it lasted, but none of it, besides perhaps the sexual gratification, was real. Popular media had a longstanding tradition of depicting Omegas as the weak, emotionally vulnerable ones, but Liam had more than one tale of alphas getting their poor little hearts broken after a four day fuck-a-thon.

And Liam was going to gladly line himself up as a fellow sufferer. He hadn’t been able to sleep right after he first stumbled into Zayn’s room that fateful night last November, dreams circling around far away figures, Zayn smelling of another alpha, bite-mark prominent on the side of neck, smiling wide and so, so breathtakingly gorgeous.

 

“Listen, Liam. Hey!” Zayn put a hand on the small of Liam’s back and pushed, forcing him down, his knot pressing deeper inside. “Oh, fuck. I, uh, I meant it. I fucking meant it, yeah?”

“What?” Liam shuddered from the spike of pleasure shooting up his spine. Zayn was slick and wet, but he was also so tight that it almost hurt at times.

“I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you, okay? I’m not chatting shit, I fucking sleep-walked through the last four months.” Zayn took a deep breath. “And yeah, I really want to do dinner. Or something.”

Liam felt like his insides were twisting from the nausea he was suddenly feeling. Who knew that emotions could be so very real? If this wasn’t some sort of sick joke, Zayn had just told him that he… liked him. Wanted him. Something unbelievable like that. Because Liam wasn’t blind – he knew beauty when he saw it. Every other alpha on campus had taken notice of him, of that he was sure. Only, sometimes Liam prided himself in seeing a little bit more than that. He knew Zayn’s timid half-smile, his scowls, the way he twisted his rings in a nervous habit.

 

His favorite spot in the library. 

 

“Ow.” Liam looked up again, forehead scrunching up from the sharp pain of Zayn’s fingernails digging into his shoulder blades. Then he noticed the fact that he hadn’t replied yet, and that Zayn’s mouth, his lush, pink lips and turned into an anxious straight line. “Zayn, I – “ he took a large gulp of air, pheromones attacking his senses with renewed vigor. He had to say this fast, because his knot was going to go down soon, and Zayn’s next wave would hit like a hurricane.

 

“Listen, I’ve been arse over tits for ages now.” He nodded a little to himself, as if to confirm the two years he had spent catching glances of Zayn all over campus. “Maybe you’ve noticed that you’re – you’re kind of gorgeous.”

Zayn only blinked at him, eyes wide. “I mean, I saw you during fresher’s week. At, like, this thing. And, yeah.” Enough now, Liam chided himself.

“But – but you never said naught! You asked me for my name and everything!” Zayn stared at him in utter disbelieve, dark eyebrows raised high. A flush was forming across his cheekbones, and Liam pushed himself up on his elbows again, pulling out as gently as possible. He needed time for the knot to go down entirely to get a new erection – not that that was a problem, with Zayn flushed and spread open, hole pink and slick and God, he had lost his thoughts again.

“I guess I wanted to – I wanted to be more than a nameless alpha to get you through heat.”

Zayn stared at him for a few long seconds before propping himself up and leaning in to kiss Liam. His lips tasted salty, musky with the blowjob he had given Liam right after crashing into his room this morning, but he also tasted like mint toothpaste and the Oreo cookies they had been able to find in one of Zayn’s drawers during a rare break.

 

And then, with the sudden force that Omega’s heats commonly had in them, Zayn was falling back, scrambling to get on all fours, a long, keening moan escaping from his lips. Liam didn’t hesitate, he wriggled out of his tacky jeans, feeling himself grow hard again. He let his cock slot against Zayn’s arse in a familiar motion, marveling over how slick he was for the hundredth time, before rocking forward slightly, just teasing in the tip. Zayn groaned, attempting to spread his legs wide, his back a lovely, wanton arch as he tried to get Liam deeper inside.

“Liam, please, oh, come on.” His voice was already craggy from all the screaming he had done the hours before that, and the nape of his neck was sweat-slick when Liam pressed his lips there in a calming gesture. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” His voice grew frenzied, and Liam pushed in, stars exploding behind his closed eyelids as Zayn’s tight heat engulfed him for what felt like the millionth time.

 

For a moment or so, Liam stayed put, thought running wild, eyes struggling to take in all that was before him. Zayn’s neck was bent, arms shaking to hold himself upright while he fucked back onto Liam dick. The little, soft noises he made with every attempt to rock back went straight to Liam’s loin.

An overwhelmingly large part of his brain screamed at him to just push in, regardless of how much adjustment time Zayn needed, regardless of anything, everything – to just push in and claim, breed –

But then there was another part, infinitely smaller but clear as a bell, ringing through his head with every single lesson he’d received in Alpha-class, everything he believed in. Omega rights had only been implemented in the last forty years, Liam had the pictures from his history books memorized, black and white and oh so vivid. Breeding camps, laws that legalized rape, Alpha supremacy.

Liam knew it was typical for his generation, but he held the firm believe, deep within his gut, that biology was secondary. That people were people first, no matter if they had the ability to pop a knot or went into a heated frenzy every other month. 

But everything about Zayn, everything about him made Liam forget, reduced him to his most primal urges.

 

“Liam. Liam!” Zayn was twisting back, looking angry and frustrated all at once. “Which part of fuck me do you not understand?” His speech was becoming a little slurred, bottom lips slick with saliva. “Liam!”

“Zayn.” Liam breathed in, the two parts of his brain were now at war. He needed to stay in control, just like he had managed to do last November. The difference was that now everything about Zayn screamed ‘mate’ at him. Because he wanted Liam, he wanted to be with him, be his. “No, not mine.” It took Liam a few seconds to realize he had said it out loud.

“What the bollocking fuck are you talkin’ about?” Zayn tried to twist back a little more, the flush in his cheeks growing unnaturally deep. “Liam, I want you to – I want – oh.” A droplet of sweat rolled down the side of his neck, and he smelled so enticing that Liam involuntarily snapped his hips forwards.

 

There was no stopping after that.

 

Zayn gave a surprised yelp when he was dragged back with a yank, cheek squished against the pillow, his arse high in the air. Liam pushed himself in harder, until his whole length was buried and Zayn was twitching, writhing. His fingers were clutching Zayn’s hips, he couldn’t tell how hard, while he quickened his pace, and there was nothing but the delicious burn, the incredible heat surrounding him, all of him. His head kept a couple thoughts alive, circling, going round and round.

“Zayn” and “mine” were dominant. Liam vaguely registered the loud bangs the headboard made against the wall, heard Zayn mewl and moan. What flashed before his eyes was a haze of red. He could feel himself panic, somewhere far away a little voice told him to slow down, regain control. But the truth was – Liam had never in his life before felt such exhilaration.

 

Before he could register it properly, he was coming.

He continued on dragging his knot in and out, as fast as Zayn’s tightness would allow. Then he felt a last swell of heat and he was locked inside, and the tiny little voice grew louder, commanding him to stop moving. Liam obliged and fell forward in one dropping motion.

 

It felt like an eternity until he started hearing Zayn’s noise of protest. In a heartbeat Liam was lifting himself up again, apologizing profusely. A look down had him groaning in horror – there were ten knuckle-shaped bruises spread out across Zayn’s hips. Liam stretched his hands out and fit them across the smooth, tan skin spanning Zayn’s bony sides. The imprints, already turning a violent, greenish purple, fit his hands perfectly.

For a moment he let the sinking feeling in his stomach take over, that ever-growing nausea he had now learned to associate with Zayn, and then he forced himself to breathe out and proceeded to glance down to where they were joined.

 

“Fudge, fudge, fudge.”

 

His fingers came away smudged with blood. Not much, but – there definitely was some red mixed in with the milky whiteness of his own come seeping out. Liam felt the panic rise in his throat again, because worst of all was that it had felt so damn good that he would do it over and over again, never differently. Even the brutal marks on Zayn’s hips looked strangely appealing in a sick, twisted way.

 

“Liam.”

Zayn’s voice sounded like an echo, growing louder by the minute. “Liam!” A hard elbow collided against his ribs. “Fuckin’ snap out of it.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. I’m sorry.” Liam eased himself down, his arms suddenly tired. He felt shaken. They turned to their sides, Zayn’s back flush against Liam’s chest. “God. Zayn, I’m sorry.”

“You’d better be.” Zayn’s voice croaked, and he coughed a couple times. “I won’t be walking right for ages.”

Liam stopped breathing, and for a moment everything he could feel was his own heartbeat, mirrored by Zayn’s, plus the overwhelming amount of guilt that had suddenly replaced the blood in his veins. Then, like fireworks, or maybe a dozen gunshots firing out, Zayn started to laugh.

Everything was completely surreal, and for a millisecond Liam considered whether he had just dreamed everything up, whether his longing for Zayn had grown so strong that he had officially gone bat-shit bonkers.

“Oh fuck, but it was completely worth it, yeah?” Zayn laughed so hard that he was hiccupping, the little motions jerking the two of them together. To his complete mortification, Liam could feel the sticky wetness leak out; mixing in with streaks of Zayn’s come from earlier. “It was so fucking good – I don’t think you can still call that sex, to be honest.”

“What?” Liam felt himself blink. “I – what?”

“I think you fucked me so hard my heat probably just ended early.” Zayn chuckled, and Liam knew he would for years to come remember the sound of it, how heartbreakingly beautiful it was, just like the rest of him.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

 

It was just one word, but it calmed Liam, relaxed his tense back. He hesitantly pressed his lips to the side of Zayn’s neck, where his pulse fluttered delicately underneath his skin. That was where you put the bite, he belatedly realized. It was completely archaic, and people barely practiced it anymore besides in some fetishizing pornos. But still, Liam knew it – knew it from school, from History class, but a part in him suspected he would still know if no one ever bothered to tell him. By instinct.

He would just. Know.

 

“No kiddin’, man, I think it really is gone. That’s one day shorter than the last one.” Zayn was twisting back again, the last rays of sunlight catching the contours of his profile. Liam just nodded, before slotting their lips together, never mind the awkward positioning. His heartbeat was picking up again, something big and warm swelling up inside his chest.

Zayn turned back, arse grinding up against Liam’s crotch playfully.

“So. What about dinner?”

Liam felt a grin stretch out on his face, giddy. Happy.

 

“What about it?” he asked, before flipping them over again.


End file.
